


The Woe of Alexandria

by GlassAlice



Series: Library AU [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 500 followers gift fic, Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Library, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Books, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith has to choose between the blade and lance, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Librarian Lance, M/M, Protective Keith (Voltron), Thank you fic, Tumblr, Voltron Amino, burning books, keeper of books, klance, klance amino, klangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 17:19:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassAlice/pseuds/GlassAlice
Summary: Galra!Keith and Altean!Lance. Lance is a Keeper of Books in the Library of Alexandria and his life is happy but uneventful  until one day the Blade of Marmora sneak in. Lance meets his destiny that day and learns three lessons. A lesson in violet. A lesson in pain. And a lesson in destiny.





	The Woe of Alexandria

Violet eyes locked him in place. Everything inside him screamed at him to run, so why was he still staring back? 

Lance didn’t yet know the significance of this moment, and if truth be told he might never know. If only he could pick up the present like a glass ball and examine it, turning it over in his hands, to see this fragment of time from every angle and explore every possibility. He desperately wanted to pluck this moment out of its timeline and hold it up to the light like a sheet of paper, so he could see through to the meaning of it all. Perhaps then he would understand. Understand violet, understand loss, and understand the inevitable.

But this moment was not made of glass and frozen time; it was made of chaos and raging fire. 

\--❤--

Alexandria, the golden pillar of knowledge, was the only Class-M planet in the GASB-7 spiral galaxy. Its artificially terraformed moon was used primarily as an outpost for supplying emergency rations to Alexandria. But it was Alexandria alone that was naturally inhabitable. 

The golden planet was densely forested in yellow-leaved trees and amber grasses. Sweeping plains of white flowers speckled the monochrome forests, their alabaster petals glowing dully in the night air. 

The birds of Alexandria warbled like flutes and hummed like clarinets, an orchestra formed by feathered rainbows. As day turned to dusk behind the carmine mountains, the mourning chelidon lamented the setting of the sun and serenaded the rising of the moon. The song of the chelidon was so lyrical and peaceful that it was considered priceless. Only nobility of the Altean empire were aloud to own these rare and beautiful birds. 

Yet the chelidon wasn’t what made Alexandria great. No, the true treasure of Alexandria lay deep under the earth, built into the crust itself by Altea’s finest architects thousands of years ago. Alabaster inlays lined the entrance, leading to emerald encrusted doors. Etched across the transom in elegant, flowing script were the words, _Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring_. A warning and an invitation to all who entered here. 

Hidden under the crust of Alexandria lay a haven for the universe’s knowledge. It was a planet excavated for the sole purpose of creating a library, the largest ever created by sentient life forms. Altea’s crowning jewel, their gift to lower civilizations, the library sunk deep into the core of the hallowed-out planet. Within its walls rested all imaginable knowledge, from samples of fur from Tragaloths on the far moon of Err to the Great Tome of Aerith’st. 

Lance loved every tome and artifact housed within.

But the thing Lance loved the most in the Library of Alexandria wasn’t anything so grand or rare. No, what Lance loved was one small book among millions -- a book from E’arth.

An unassuming volume bound in unknown animal hide, the casing bore an etched water nymph and floral lettering that his translation glass told him said “Undine”. Lance used soft white gloves to turn the page as he read. He technically wasn’t allowed to read while he was working--especially casually reading a book that was 253 decaphoebs old--but there wasn’t much else to do in a library. He’d already finished cleaning and organizing his section for the day; all that was left was to sort and re-label the glacier samples from the ice caps of Tremuline. And Lance was currently procrastinating that horrific task, thank you very much.

Lance trained from childhood to be a Keeper of Alexandria. He read books beyond count, learned to speak ten languages and could read twenty more, and yet the simplicity of Undine drew his interest in ways no other tome had managed. Two people in love and in over their heads. No one was really the villain in this book, the only villain was consequence and circumstance. No mortal could ever understand a goddess and no goddess could ever be satisfied with a mortal, even if they did love each other. It was simple, she was too strong and he was too weak. A story of balance. Love needed balance. A simple message in a simple book and Lance couldn't get enough of it. 

He sighed as he turned a yellowed page and waited for his glasses to translate the foreign script, they always took ages when deciphering Undine. It was the only book in the whole library from E’arth, the planet was so far away it was hard to obtain samples. Even by wormhole, it was at the edge of the universe. Lance didn’t really need the glasses anymore, with its graceless conversion, he had the book memorized. A few years ago he’d transcribed the text into poetic caesura Altean, which, was still in censure by the Bibliotheca Alexandria to become the official translation.

Lance pulled up the holoscreen next to him to check the time 4:59:06. Fifty-nine dobashes after closing. 

_How long have I been reading?_

Lance pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the back of his gloved hand. The white kid gloves felt soothing and pleasant against his strained muscles. He leaned back and flicked the holoscreen to check on the closing status. With a sigh he realized that his section was the only one not complete. Lance quickly tapped out the closing code and started the end of day procedure. Small droids flew from slats in the wall and whizzed down book isles, casting the tomes in protective sealant and sweeping up dust from the wooden floors. 

Lance pulled off his gloves and put them in his desk drawer to accompany his glasses. He straightened his cream coat tugging at the powder blue trim and running his hand along the fur collar around his shoulders. The silky, snow colored fur that lined his collar tickled his bare fingers with their long bristles. He slipped his leather shoes back on that he’d toed off at some point during his reading. Lance stretched his lean arms above his head, his back popping loudly in the silence of the empty library, the whirring of the cleaning bots sputtering as they clumsily made their way back into the wall slats. 

He carefully lifted the book from its resting position on the desk with full intent to place it back where it belonged. 

_Click_

Lance’s head whipped to his left, following the unusual sound. He waited a moment, straining his ears to identify the odd sound.

_Click_

There it was again; it wasn’t his imagination. Lance took a hesitant step forward, grip tightening around the book in his hand. He shook his head, it was probably just a malfunctioning bot, unable to return to the charging station.

_Pop_

_Swoosh_

Lance paused in his stride, fear gripped his stomach and held his feet in place. That didn’t sound like a bot. Everyone should be gone, according to the computer Lance was the only Keeper left inside all of Alexandria. Something was wrong.

He steeled his nerves, it was his duty to care for the library and he was no coward. Lance crouched slowly as to not make any noise and placed his satchel down on the floor before laying the book he held on top of the smooth, brown bag. His fingers hesitated on the cover for a moment before snatching the book back into his grasp. He couldn’t leave such a precious book on the floor when something might be wrong, it was safer in his arms.

He rose up in a half crouch and peered over the edge of the counter. Everything was still and quiet. Lance gingery stood up, ears twitching as they strained to hear the slightest noise. The rustling of fabric on fabric as he stood seemed to echo in the stillness. Lance was thankful for the supple leather of his soles as he padded mutely over the waxed hardwood floor. 

Hushed voices and unintelligible words caught Lance’s sharp ears. He carefully wove his way around bookcase after bookcase, taking a convoluted path toward what he was now sure were intruders. 

Lance positioned himself so that he was one row away from the masked group. There were three of them that he could see, the shortest still looked to be a foot taller than Lance himself. They were whispering in coded Galran, something about a mission, the blade, and a sample of Zeruleite. Lance knit his brows together, the mineral samples were on the other side of the Library under the care of Ikorah, which meant it was literally on the other side of the world. Lance’s section was only full of furs, hides, and a few stuffed samples of rare beasts, along with books on fantasy and fiction from across the universe. 

The smallest of what he thought were Galra seemed to be frustrated and was arguing with the tallest one when a fourth entered the group. The new addition had a tail that whipped impatiently behind them. Maybe they weren't Galra after all. 

“...set…...are ready...once the signal…” The one with the tail spoke. Lance was fluent in Galran but the code was hard to decipher in real time.

“I told you...compromised…...need to leave...the mission...failure.” The short one crossed his arms. 

“You have your orders....do you choose….with the blade or death?” The one that must've been the leader of the group growled out. Was he about to kill the small one right now? Lance had heard rumors of the barbaric ways the Galra treated their own.

Terror gripped his heart and he struggled to breath. Every tiny gasp sounded like a thunderstorm in his ears. They could hear him, he was sure that his shuddering breath was booming though the empty corridors of books. He had to hide, had to get to safety. He may not have understood the whole conversation but he understood enough. They were murders, they’d kill him if they found him. Everything slowed down as adrenaline shot threw his bloodstream.

 _I have to hide. I have to hide, now._ his mind repeated over and over like a mantra, something to concentrate on besides the panic the cursed through him. 

Before Lance could move the Galra were moving.

“Get ready, ….in 10 dobashes.” The presumed leader ordered and the group jumped to fulfill their orders. All except one, the shortest Galra stood still glaring at the holoscreen on his wrist.

Lance felt sweat run down his back and his palms slipped on the hide-cover of Undine still clutched to his chest. He tried to adjust the book in his hands but the adrenaline coursing through him made him shaky and clumsy, the book slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor with a quiet clap of leather on wood. 

Every muscle in his body tightened, straining to keep as still as possible. Maybe the short Galra didn’t hear it. 

The mask covering the other man’s face fizzled out to reveal violet eyes. They were sharp and calculating and staring straight at him. Lance couldn’t look away, couldn’t run. Those dark irises held him in place and refused to let him move. Blue crashing into purple and drowning in their depths.

Sadness etched its way into the Galra’s face before turning into resignation. The whispered words made Lance jump even though they were spoken in slow, hushed tones, “Get out of here.”

The heavily accented Altean took a moment to register through the shock. It took even longer for Lance to follow the gentle command, he willed his legs to move. He backed away, one foot then the other, slow and methodical. Something brown caught his attention, his book lay spread out on the floor, pages folded under the open cover. His eyes flashed up at the Galra on the other side, still looking at him through the bookshelf that separated them. In a split second decision Lance jerked forward, unsteady on his feet, and grabbed at the fallen book. As soon as his fingers grazed the worn cover, a blade met with his throat.

Lance tried not to move as he followed the length of the blade with his eyes to the frowning face of what could only be a halfling Galra. 

_How is he so fast?_

“What are you doing? Save yourself, there’s no time. If the other’s knew…” The Galra hissed in the same uneven lit, barely audible even at their close distance.

Lance didn’t dare move but he looked out of the corner of his eye as best he could from his crouched position, “What are you doing in the Library, this is no place for Galra soldiers.” His Galran was rusty but if the raised eyebrows of the other were any indication, he was understood.

Those thick eyebrows pulled down to knit across a purple brow and the knife at his throat gained new purpose, pressing harder in warning.

“You speak Galran, how much did you hear?” The threat was implied but clear. Lance felt the tip of the blade sink into his skin and hissed as a droplet of blood seeped into his high collared coat. 

“I didn’t! I didn’t hear anything!” Lance pleaded. His knees ached as he held his squatted position and his fingers slipped on the leather cover of the book as sweat slicked his palms.

“Liar.” The Galra knelt down, coming eye level with Lance. “Are you a spy for Zarkon?”

Lance stared at the knife, looking down his nose, “Zarkon? Your king? I’m Altean.” Lance said as if that explained everything.

And maybe it had, because the knife dropped from his throat and a large gloved hand was held up in offering.

Lance looked down at the hand in confusion then up at the Galra offering it.

“No spy would care so much about a book that they would risk their mission to retrieve it.” The Galra lifted the corner of his full lips in an almost smile. Lance hesitated. This man was an intruder and the people he was with were up to no good, but something deep inside him wanted to trust this strange and beautiful Galra. 

So Lance did. 

He gripped the book on the ground and placed a sweaty hand in a black gloved one, the fabric was cold to the touch and strangely rough. Lance let out a gasp as he was pulled to his feet.

The taller Galra pulled him close by the waist and started to drag him forward. Lance blushed at the contact and stumbled at the rough treatment. 

“Uh, you don’t need to hold onto me, I know how to walk.” Lance whispered and rolled his eyes. His legs shook with every step and he wasn’t sure if he could actually manage walking on his own, but he definitely didn’t need help from some stranger. 

“You might run, and then you’ll die. This is safer.” The grip around his waist tightened and he was pulled close to the taller man’s side. The black breastplate stuck uncomfortably in Lance’s shoulder as they walked.

“Kethiel.” The call came from their right.

It was so fast, Lance’s head spun as he was manhandled. One second he was hugging the side of the Galra, the next he was pulled by his arm and whipped under the long cape that hung from the Galra’s shoulders.

“Stay still.” The breathy command caused Lance to freeze and press himself as close as he dared to the wide back of the Galra apparently named Kethiel. 

“The trap is set, Kolivan says to...and that’s an order.” Lance saw a spiked tail whip in and out of view from his hiding place.

The low vibrations rumbled through Lance as his Galra, Kethiel, spoke, “Kolivan…won’t be ready...I need more time.” The coded Galran was getting easier to translate in real time but Lance still felt lost as to what exactly they were planning. 

“You have 5 dobashes, if you’re not finished by then...so hurry.” The tail flicked again and Lance held his breath.

“You can come out now.” Kethiel spoke, switching back to standard Galran. 

“What’s going on?” Lance looked up biting his lip, eyes flashed to were the other Galra had stood just moments ago, “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing that concerns you, we need to hurry.” Kethiel insisted, pulling Lance close to his side.

Lance stumbled and glared ahead of him as he was dragged. The adrenaline was wearing off making his muscles ache, he was tired and sore from being shoved around. They turned a corner that lead to the next section, they were heading away from Lance’s area but not toward any exit. 

Lance looked up, “Where are you taking me?” He tried to tug his arm free but the Galra held firm, “Tell me, Kethiel, or I scream!”

“You scream and we both die.” A strange look came over the Galra’s face, “Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what, Kethiel?” Lance’s face twisted in confusion and he strained his neck to look the Galra in the eyes. “Isn’t that what the other one called you? The one with the tail?”

A sigh escaped full, pouting lips, “Just.. Call me Keith.” 

“Okay.” Lance dragged out the word just to show how weird he found this whole conversation. “Keith it is. So, Keith, where are you taking me?”

“Here.” Keith motioned to the wall in front of them.

“Here… You took me to a wall. Yeah, I’m going to die aren’t I?” Lance pulled his arm from Keith’s grip with a sharp tug.

Keith’s eyes widened in surprise, Alteans were deceptively strong for their slight build. 

Lance hugged the book close to his chest trying to seek comfort. His breath shallowed out and he worked to get air into his lungs. He started to feel light headed, brown creeped in from the corner of his eyes making his vision swim.

Panic. 

Strong hands landed lightly on his shoulders, one came up to cup his chin. Lance didn’t resist when his face was turned, he stared at the intense eyes that seemed to place a spell over his whole body and mind. The nausea was replaced by violet irises and his vision began to clear.

“Breath, small one.” Keith made a show of breathing slowly, in and out for Lance to follow.

When the panic attack passed Lance closed his eyes, “The name’s Lance.”

“What?” The taller man looked confused for a moment before an alarm beeped on Keith’s wrist drawing his attention. A small holoscreen flashed purple numbers counting down 30..29...28…

“It's too late.” Keith cursed, “Regris already set the detonation.”

“Detonation!?” Lance almost screamed. It clicked, the conversation from before, they were planning an explosion. 

“You’re blowing up the Library?” The panic that was finally starting to calm down rushed back in full force.

"Yes, we have to get out of here, now." It was a command. Keith tugged at Lance to get him to move but the Altean refused to budge. The device on Keith’s arm mercilessly continued to beep, uncaring for the feelings of those around it 20...19...18…

Keith growled and picked Lance up, carrying him in both arms. Lance’s feet dangling as he clutched his book, mind still reeling.

Tears prickled his eyes, “No you can’t." Lance was screaming now, he didn’t care about the danger, "Why would you? How dare you!”

He pounded a fist against Keith's chest and wiggled trying to escape.

“Shut up.” Keith ran, clutching the squirming Altean closer, his black cape billowed out behind him like a great cloud. 

9...8...7…

They wouldn’t make it, the exit was 20 meters away, they’d never make it. 

Keith turned and Lance screamed, “Where are you going? The exit is behind you!” Lance pointed frantically, eyes wide. 

Keith dropped and Lance felt his heart fall into his stomach, they slid on the waxed floor into a grate just big enough to fit. It was an air shoot that lead to the surface. 

4...3...2…

Keith reached for a wire line with a foot strap that dangled from an unseen destination and tugged. Lance closed his eyes, pressing his face into the crook of Keith’s neck, they jerked into motion. They were flying, pulled by the zipline through the shaft.

1.

The explosion was deafening, Lance’s head rattled and his ears rang. Heat swelled behind them as the fire raged, following them through the small chamber. The fire seeking a way out from underground, crawling through the air vents as a molten blaze. The smell of burnt fabric, burnt skin, burnt fur, and the sickly sweet smell of burning books followed them as they ascended up to the surface. 

The explosion pushed them out and they flew through the air, Keith wrapping his arms protectively around Lance as they fell. Lance hit the yellow grass hard. Keith’s shoulder dug into the soft earth, bringing them to a halt. Fire spewed out of ventilation shafts as if hell itself were rising out of the ground. Tall pillars of spiraling fire and ash lit the night sky. Shreds of books that were pushed up to the surface by the explosions flitted through the air, singed edges red against the black sky. The burnt edges of Keith’s black cloak cut across the golden grass as it flapped violently in the up-current caused by the inferno. 

Lance didn’t know he was crying until a strong purple finger wiped the wetness from his face. Keith struggled to stand, clutching at his shoulder that took the brunt of their fall. Lance’s eyes stayed trained on the massacre before him, he barely felt himself be pulled into Keith’s arms until the library was pulled from his view. Lance’s feet dangled listlessly as he clutched onto Undine, the last book from the Library of Alexandria. 

“Kethiel.”

Kolivan stood, back to the raging fire, flanked by Regris and Antok. Keith turned to face them and Lance felt Keith’s grip tighten around him.

“What have you done, Kethiel? There must be no witnesses.” Kolivan’s knife grew into a sword, dangerous and glowing in the red of the blaze.

“This mission was compromised before this Altean found us, he’s innocent.” Keith took a step back.

“And he shall be innocent in death as well.” Kolivan launched himself forward, blade drawn.

Keith jumped back, dodging out of the way, “Don’t do this Kolivan, it’s not right. We failed today because of your pride.”

“The zeruleite was a loss indeed, but what we have gained here is worth more than some rock.” Kolivan shook his head and opened his arms in a sign of peace, “You are the only one who has failed today. Give up the Altean and your punishment will be minimal compared to your crime.”

Lance looked up at Keith’s face, violet eyes determined. Resolve to die with honor set in his brow. 

Lance placed a thin hand on Keith’s cheek, “It’s okay, Keith. You don’t have to do this for me.”

“Listen to the Altean, Kethiel. Would you choose death over the Blade?” Kolivan held up his sword, Regris and Antok took fighting stances as they flanked him.

Keith glared down at Lance, eyes sharp, “I must do this, do you trust me?” 

Lance looked at the fire that blazed behind the other Galra, then focused on Kolivan before finally settling on Keith, “Yes.”

Keith turned to Kolivan, determination set in his voice, “I choose death.”

“So be it.” Kolivan and the two Galra that flanked him sprinted into action, charging right at Keith.

“Hold on.” Keith whispered and Lance tightened his hold around Keith’s neck, book clutched between both hands.

Lance felt like he was being split in two and his vision went white. His eyes slowly focused as nausea overwhelmed him. They’d warped, shipless. More like jumped he guessed, from one point on the planet to another. The library still burned in the distance. Plumes of dark smoke billowing into the air, blotting out the silver moon. The birds screamed in the trees around them, warning others of the doom that lurked near. 

“You, how did you...You warped us.” Lance stuttered, his whole body shaking. 

“A friend of mine invented it. We should make it to the ship before Kolivan and the rest. You’re safe now.” Keith’s cape fluttered in the wind from the fire behind them as he walked, the burnt edges still smoldering. The sickly sweet smell of burning books pilfered his nose, Lance worried that the smell might be permanent.

“It’s gone.” The embers reflected in Lance’s blue eyes turning them gold as he stared listlessly behind them. He clutched tighter to Keith’s neck.

“I’m sorry.” Keith lamented, and Lance felt that he really was.

Lance didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. He felt tears well up in his eyes again, they fell silently down his face as he watched the universe’s knowledge burn. 

He only stopped looking when the bay doors closed over the horrific site. Keith set him gently on the ground and Lance wobbled, his strength leaving him. He clutched to Keith and cried, ugly and loud. Sobs wracked his body and he gasped around hiccups, the tears poured down his face in torrents. He screamed things, unintelligible and regretful. He screamed them at Keith, at himself, at the universe. Pain buried itself into his bones as the sole mourner on that tragic day.

Lance wasn’t sure when or how they’d made it to the bridge. Whimpers still leaked their way out of his throat but the tears were dry and itchy on his cheeks. Keith pressed a hand on the control panel and the ship launched into autopilot as they took off. 

Alexandria burned. Lance would later find out that the explosives set by Regis were made to break into a gas mine in the planet, Altea’s scientists estimated that the planet would burn another 100 decaphoebs at least.

Undine sat on a cheap bookshelf in Lance’s room, a strip of cream colored fabric with a signed powder blue tip stuck out as a makeshift bookmark. The tattered remains of the universe’s hubris. A constant reminder of violet, sorrow, and destiny.

**Author's Note:**

> There is no update schedule for this fic, but please stick around because I'm going to work on it slowly. 
> 
> Beautiful artwork by [Nikole Kephir](http://nikole-kephir.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thank you to my amazing beta, [Starbuck-7](http://starbuck-7.tumblr.com/)!! Always there to support me xoxo
> 
> As always plz [Stalk me on Tumblr!](http://yuzuling.tumblr.com/) I'm also GlassAlice on both the Klance and Voltron Aminos!


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